Football -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
“Of course the play has its limitation, Todd. As, for instance, it
couldn’t be used if the ball was very close to either side-line. Wait,
though! That’s wrong. It could be pulled off all right pretty close to
the right side of the field, couldn’t it? Todd, I’m going to sit up
with this thing to-night and figure it out!” He was staring at the
diagram again. Then: “Thunder, here’s another bad feature! Look here,
Todd. About the time when Tennyson gets set to make that forty or
forty-five yard heave he’s going to have in the neighborhood of sixteen
men dodging around between him and the receiver. Well, that means that
it’s going to be mighty hard for him to sight his man. Of course he can
throw the ball to a certain specified spot across the field, trusting
Borden or some one to be there-- That reminds me.” Mr. Cade added
another memorandum to those he had already jotted on the side of the
paper he held. “It might be possible to make this a two-man pass. How
about Frost? I wonder if we could fix it so as to put him over there
with Borden in time to make the catch or to interfere.”
Jim studied his plan and looked dubious. “I don’t believe so, sir.
Besides, wouldn’t it be sort of a give-away if two fellows went over
there? One might look like an accident, but two--”
“I fancy you’re right. Well, we’ll see.” Mr. Cade laid the diagram
aside and picked up his pipe. “I wish you’d tell me something, Todd,”
he said. “You started out like a comer and I had great hopes of you.
You went finely until a week or so ago, two weeks, perhaps; then you
laid down on us. What’s the matter?”
“I--I don’t know, Mr. Cade,” answered Jim. “I guess there isn’t
anything the matter. I mean I don’t know why I can’t seem to play like
I used to.”
“Lost interest?”
Jim hesitated. “N-no, sir, not exactly.”
“That means you have. Why? Feeling all right?”
“Yes, sir, fine.”
“Anything worrying you?”
Jim started to shake his head, but stopped, his eyes falling before the
coach’s steady look. For the first time he realized what his trouble
was. After a moment he answered: “Maybe, sir, a little.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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